A long time ago, when my parents realized I was totally useless as a normal Spellcaster, they did what they had been doing all their lives.
Brainstorming.
They went over the many different applications of my limited repertoire, but it wasn't until we were tailing a mark in Spain that the full effect of it dawned on us.
I was carrying a school uniform and some inflatable balloons. You would be amazed how much you can accomplish with such a simple disguise.

The mark was meeting with a contact while I followed, nosing around and Ooooohing and Aaaahing besides mum.
We stopped in front of the exhibit of some old weapons. I usually could scan them without much ado...but this one screamed at me.
She drew my eyes and I was besotted.

There she rested, with marks that didn't mar her body but instead enhanced her value. She wasn't beautiful in the traditional sense, big, heavy, and world-weary. My eyes saw her exterior while my magecraft connected with her history.
From her birth among heat, the first hand that she recognized as her owner. Hits and bumps, rain and ash.
Ravages of time and oils of victory.
She was my first Sword.
Since her, I meet many, but she will always come first.

Thus it could be no other than her the first sword that answered my call. She would be the first that my bride-to-be would meet.
I poured my energy into my hand and like the very first time, having her with me made me complete.

Rin's eyes roamed her form, not unlike a mother-in-law passing a gloved finger over the top shelf.
Iron? Steel?

I shook my head.
Sword.

She spluttered.
The Standard Hearthless List identifies all the possible elements. Sword isn't an element.
Now if you do want my silence, tell me your real affinity.

I facepalmed.
What is more probable? That I somehow found how to trick a Sanguineum or that my affinity IS SWORD?

She made a come hither motion and I handed over the blade. Her tiny hands were dwarfed by the large grip, the flared guard covering much of her chest.
Rin didn't think much of it until she performed a Structural Analysis.
Then her eyes widened, her hands clamping on the guard so hard I could hear her knuckles popping.
-"Shiiiiiuuuuu... Ow di sho shtea aa NOBL PHAANTAAM?!"

I didn't steal.

She wasn't convinced, but referring to my previous argument about the reliability of the Sanguineum, at least she didn't try to throttle me.
I called it a win.

She pried oner of her shaking hands from the sword, her heretofore perfect calligraphy, now was so messy that I asked her to write it again.
She took a couple of breaths and reclaimed a modicum of self-control.
How, in the Zelretch-damned-name, did you obtain a Noble Phantasm? Is the Tohsaka family be expected to face an open inquiry for theft of a foreign national treasure when it comes to light that my husband owns a piece of Spain's soul?

Well, when she put it like that, it did sound a 'lil fishy. But it was legit.
I saw her in a museum and tried to make a copy.
Unless they came down with copyright laws against me. A shudder rocked my body. The Clocktower's IP Office was not to be trifled with.

Rin's jaw slackened, her other hand dropping the sword. I will forever treasure that moment engraved in my mind, alongside her face upon learning to HALO.
How many years did it take? How many resources did you use to create this replica?

Rin, that's the same ol' Gradation Air. Just some Od and a bit of practice.

I could swear her eyes shone with $ symbols.
You, me. Marriage consummation. NOW.